


a different performance with every age

by aleksrothis



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blond Celegorm, F/M, Hair Kink, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mirror Sex, Object Penetration, Restraints, Rough Sex, Taboo, Thrill/danger, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 15:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/pseuds/aleksrothis
Summary: A home for my Season of Kink fills - my "+" pattern of Silmarillion fics is now complete!I had planned a mix of pairings but in the end they all featured Celegorm *shrugs* Pairings and kinks for each chapter listed below (individual warnings in the chapter notes)1. Object penetration - Lúthien/Celegorm2. Thrill/danger - Oromë/Celegorm3. Taboos - Huan/Celegorm4. Barebacking/unsafe sex - Aredhel/Celegorm5. Free space (rough sex) - Ëol/Celegorm6. Shower/bath - Tilion/Celegorm7. Hurt & comfort - Curufin/Celegorm8. Bondage/restraints - Finrod/Celegorm9. Mirrors/doubles - Celegorm





	1. Object penetration - Celegorm/Lúthien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lúthien has one last thing she wants to do before leaving Nargothrond.
> 
> Content/Warning: Mildly dubious consent, restraints, femdom

She wasn't foolish enough to agree to wed him but Lúthien couldn't deny the Fëanorian was very pretty and she wasn't interested in denying herself things she wanted. This would be her last night in Nargothrond and she wanted to make the most of it.

Celegorm came to visit after dinner, as he did every evening, and it hadn’t taken her much effort to lure him in. She sang soft coaxing words until he was close enough she could touch bare skin and then called upon her Maiaran heritage to entrance him, watching his face go slack.

She knew the effect wouldn't hold him long so she needed to work fast. Still, undressing him was a true pleasure, and his naked body was everything she had hoped for. Long, toned limbs, a defined abdomen and tight buttocks. Lúthien took her time running her hands over him, appreciating her captor turned captive.

She bound his wrists to the bedposts as the haze started to lift from his eyes. She had half-expected him to be angry, given his reputation for being quick-tempered, and to fight the restraints though she was sure they would hold, made of spell-stuff as they were.

Instead, Celegorm only gave the bonds a cursory tug before giving her an assessing look. "Why princess, I didn't know you had this in you. What other surprises have you been keeping up your sleeves?"

She ignored him, continuing with her plan. Her father might have rather kept her ignorant but her mother had taught her to scry and so she had learned of the many combinations in which neri and nissi could be intimate. Of all the things she had seen, this had been her favourite.

Another short melody over a scrap of leather she had collected and she had a facsimile of a phallus. Celegorm's eyes widened and he licked his lips, spreading his legs apart almost instinctively.

Well, if he was not unwilling that was a bonus though she wasn't going to change her plans to suit him. A liberal coating of oil and she was ready. When she had seen this done, both partners had clearly enjoyed it and she had taken her own pleasure at the sight. Now she got to experience it for herself.

She pushed the phallus into Celegorm. Even without her spell making him pliant, there was no resistance and it slid several inches in. He groaned and his cock curved up hard between them without her even needing to touch him.

The sight was intoxicating and Lúthien reached between her own legs, touching herself with one hand as she used the other to work the replica in and out of him, deeper with each thrust. He was beautiful like this, stretched open before her, the perfect vessel for her desires.

She was soaking wet by the time the full length was sheathed in his body, fingers slipping across her clitoris as she tried to find release.

Celegorm wasn't unaffected; flushed to the navel, and pupils blown with arousal, as he rocked his hips to meet her thrusts. "I could help with that," he offered lewdly, eyes lingering on her crotch.

"I'm not letting you inside me," she snapped, though her body clenched at the thought of being filled as he was.

He shook his head, amusement in his eyes. "That much was evident.ËI was offering you my mouth."

It was a shame she didn't have the time to take advantage of that proposal but the thought of it was enough to tip her over the edge as she imagined him putting that skill into practice. She managed to keep twisting the phallus inside him until he spilled across his own stomach and she then slid it out of him, dropping it onto the bedsheets and shaking the tension out of her wrist.

She didn't have time to appreciate the view before there was the whisper of a new presence in her mind and Huan padded across the room. Celegorm lifted his head and, though no words passed between them, she sensed a lot had been said. "So, this is how it ends?" he asked, sounding sad rather than betrayed as she'd expected.

Huan didn't reply but stood fast at Lúthien's side as she wrapped herself in the cloak the hound had brought her. She took a last look at Celegorm spread-eagled on her bed, flushed and sweaty, streaked with his own seed as a memory for the long, cold nights ahead before heading for the door.

For this first time, Celegorm looked concerned. "You're not going to leave me like this?" he demanded. Even dishevelled as he was, he still managed to sound haughty.

"I don't think you're in any position to make demands," she told him.

She could tell how the hound disapproved but she didn't intend to humiliate Celegorm, only prevent his pursuit. Her binding would fade with the dawn, long before the servant’s arrived with her breakfast tray, and by then she would be far away.


	2. Thrill/danger - Celegorm/Oromë

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyelko knew Oromë was powerful and dangerous but he couldn't stay away.
> 
> Content/Warning: Power imbalance, age difference, anal penetration, use of Quenya names

Tyelkormo knew he was taking a risk, coming to see Oromë when his father had made his distrust of the Valar so clear. He didn't think the Lord of the Hunt would turn him away though, when he had made his interest clear so many times before. 

He didn't want to be caught here though so Tyelkormo used all his skill at stealth to make his way to Oromë's pavilion. He ducked inside to find his Lord preparing his weapons for the Hunt.

Oromë showed no surprise at his arrival but then they would have been too much to hope for. Instead, Tyelkormo felt the warmth of the Vala’s mind touch his own, as Oromë turned his full attention on him, putting the weapons aside.

No words were needed between them as, under that heavy regard, Tyelkormo stripped slowly, moving to a music only he could hear. There should have been a chill in the air with the approach of autumn but Oromë’s blood ran hot and he gave out heat, warming the inside of the tent.

Once Tyelkormo was completely nude, Oromë pulled him close, whispering in his ear, "Feel what you do to me, my Tyelko."

Through the Vala's robes, Tyelko could feel his massive arousal, and pressed shamelessly against it, begging with his body rather than words.

Oromë lifted him up easily and dropped him onto the bed, such a small demonstration of his great strength but enough to make Tyelko shudder a little in anticipation. He sprawled provocatively, as Oromë's clothes simply vanished. 

Oromë covered him with his now bare flesh and Tyelko pushed up into his warmth, almost purring with the satisfaction of getting what he wanted. For a few moments Tyelko let Oromë rut against his thigh until his patience ran out and he started to grumble.

"Hush now, my hasty one," Oromë said, stroking a large hand down his flank. "You're going to have to be quiet if you don't want to get caught."

Tyelkormo could manage that if he got what he wanted. He let Oromë guide him over onto his front then up onto his knees and elbows.

The Vala rubbed the head of his cock against Tyelkormo's entrance, gasping a little when he found the elf already wet and open for him. Tyelko considered it worth the awkwardness of the preparations to get that reaction from his lover.

Oromë didn't hesitate to take advantage of it either, pressing in deeply. He was still huge, almost too much, but Tyelkormo loved the feeling of being overwhelmed.

He was grateful too for the soft pillow to muffle his cries, biting down keep the sound inside as Oromë nailed his prostate with every thrust.

As though the thrill of fucking a Vala wasn't enough, knowing Oromë was restraining his strength and power even as he felt the force rock through his body, left Tyelkormo almost dizzy with need.

Tyelkormo wanted more. His pulse raced at the thought of being caught - the High King's grandson laid out like a common whore for one of the Valar - of what his family would say.

Sometimes he fantasised about approaching Oromë on a feast day, both in their finery, and kneeling at his feet. Of letting Oromë use his mouth in public so everyone knew how he served him.

It felt as though Oromë kept him on the edge for an age, pulling his hips up every time he tried to rut against the soft furs covering the bed, refusing to let him seek his own release. He loved the feeling of being powerless, at the whim of his lord.

When Oromë finally came, Tyelkormo could feel the hot seed pulsing deep inside him, filling him up. The Vala stayed hard inside him as he finally reached around to touch Tyelkormo's cock, stroking him to orgasm.

He knew the Vala wasn't truly sated and wished he wouldn't hold back but maybe this wasn’t the best opportunity, when his father was expecting him back soon.

After all the build-up, it didn’t take long until Tyelko spilled over Oromë’s hand with a quickly smothered cry. They lay still joined together for a few moments until Oromë pulled away with a reluctant groan leaving Tyelkormo to enjoy the feeling of seed dripping out of him, down his thighs. He wished he could leave like this, let everyone see. Instead he felt Oromë's power wash over him, cleaning him inside and out.

Tyelkormo wasn’t looking forward to leaving the warmth of Oromë’s bed but he forced himself up as Oromë watched him, barely ruffled by their activities. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Tyelko promised, and slipped back out into the night.


	3. Taboos - Celegorm/Huan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celegorm and Huan enjoy the advantages of Huan's canine form.
> 
> Content/Warning: Bestiality/sex with sentient animals, shape-shifters, anal penetration, knotting, rimming, use of Quenya names

Riding to the hunt with Oromë is definitely a privilege Tyelkormo is proud to have earned but he agrees this is worth missing a hunt for.

They’d found this abandoned hunting lodge, which seemed to be the perfect place for their trysts though there was always a chance the actual owner could return.

They both know they were taking a risk. If any were to come across them in their coupling, they would surely believe the High King's grandson was laying with his hunting dog. If it came to that, Huan supposed he would shift to show them the truth. Or at least speak with them mind to mind - few had Tyelkormo’s capacity for animal speech. But that is part of the thrill.

Originally Huan had changed forms joyfully but, as he had run more frequently with Oromë and his hunt, he had come to prefer this form, staying in it longer and longer until he could hardly remember when he had last shifted. If Tyelkormo had been less enthusiastic about it, perhaps things would have been different, but Huan sees no need to change something which is working for them.

Tyelkormo strips off and Huan takes a moment to admire his lover’s lithe form, completely unashamed of his nudity. They embrace, Huan’s paws on Tyelkormo’s shoulders with his elf burying his hands in Huan's thick fur, before Tyelkormo arranges himself over the edge of the bed.

Huan rubs his muzzle against Tyelkormo’s thighs, encouraging him to spread them apart. Tyelkormo reaches back and holds his buttocks apart so Huan can lick between them. Tyelkormo loves his tongue in any form but there is something about the forbidden aspect of it that thrills him more like this.

They don’t have all day so he can’t spend as long as he’d like making Tyelkormo cry with pleasure. Once he’d even made him spend just from this but it took a little while for Tyelko to recover after.

As Huan lacks fingers, Tyelkormo has prepared himself in advance so he can just set himself against the elf’s entrance and thrust in, his cock already leaking. Tyelkormo muffles his cries into his forearm but the ósanwe connection between them is strong and bright and Huan can feel his pleasure.

He pulls back then thrusts back in deeper than before, only a little more finesse than the hound he appears to be. He imagines this wasn’t what Oromë had intended when he had matched them but the Vala has to know and hasn’t stopped them.

Tyelkormo shudders under him when Huan nips at his shoulder, lets his claws dig in a little, leaving faint trails. They can’t risk lasting marks but he always wants to lay his claim.

Huan feels his knot swelling and thrusts harder until it pushes past Tyelkormo’s tight ring of muscle, into the glorious heat of his body. It swells further, locking him into place as his release washes over him, his pleasure flowing over their connection.

He briefly wishes for his own hands as Tyelkormo reaches for his cock, sharing how good it feels bringing himself to release at the sensation of the knot stretching him open. Then again, if Huan had hands right now he wouldn’t get to have Tyelkormo split open on his knot, panting desperately.

Huan licks the back of Tyelko’s neck, a poor substitute for the bite mark he wants to leave, but the intention is there and it tips his lover over the edge. As soon as his knot goes down they will have to separate and return to the hunt but, for now, they can enjoy this moment of illicit pleasure.


	4. Barebacking/unsafe sex - Celegorm/Aredhel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aredhel wasn't ready to forgive Celegorm for his part in Feanor's betrayal but she finds it hard to stay angry with him. 
> 
> Content/Warning: vaginal penetration, woman on top, unsafe sex, use of Quenya names

When Irissë had stormed over to the Feanorians’ camp, determined to vent her frustration at her brother’s heroics, the last person she had wanted to see was the one now standing in front of her.

“But what do you mean Findekáno’s gone?” Tyelkormo asked. “Where has he gone?” 

She was so furious at his bewildered expression, she wanted to punch him in his beautiful, stupid face. “To find Maitimo, of course.” She couldn’t believe she had to spell that out.

“Into Angamando?” Tyelkormo looked doubtful. “Why would he take such a risk?”

“That's what you do for someone you love,” Irissë snaps at him. “You want to make sure they’re safe. Not leave them to freeze half-to-death.”

Now his own temper flares and they are on familiar ground. “You were supposed to be safe,” he protests, eyes flashing. “Back in Valinórë.”

She hadn’t wanted to have this conversation with him, not yet, not while it was still so raw. She still wanted to hurt him, make him feel the helplessness she had felt watching her father’s people lost one by one to the Helcaraxë.

She pulls back and slaps him hard in the face, the sound ringing out across the camp. Tyelko blinks at her in apparent confusion and Irissë cannot hold back any longer.

Pulling him down by the collar of his tunic, she kisses him roughly, biting at his lips. She wants to tear his clothes off and burn away the cold of the Grinding Ice in the heat of their bodies.

Tyelko returns the kiss, grabbing at her shoulders, her hair - pulling it loose of the hastily-done plait. They stumble backwards into his tent and don't manage to make it much further, ending up on the tent floor, tearing off each other's clothes.

She straddles him, feeling his hardness pressing against her. She is suddenly struck with the desire to break the last of the rules, reaching down to stroke his cock and guiding him between her thighs, towards her wet core.

“Irissë we can't,” Tyelko protests but he is hard and his eyes roll back with pleasure as she let him enter her.

The feeling of him inside her, thicker than his fingers, was everything she had dreamt of when they were denying themselves back in Valinórë. But now she had no worry of the act binding their souls. After everything that had happened, there was no way they were going to invoke the names of the Valar.

She rides him furiously, rolling her hips, determined to take her pleasure. She leans down and he pushes up onto his elbows to meet her biting kisses, her nails digging into his biceps.

“Irissë, I'm so close,” he gasps out, reaching up and trying to push her hips back to spill outside her but she refuses to let him.

Yes, it’s dangerous but she doesn’t care. No, she relishes it. Perhaps the hollow ache inside her will be filled by a child. She can almost imagine a little girl, like Itarillë, but with his pale hair and grey eyes. Let him fill her belly and she will flaunt their love. 

His seed is hot as he spills inside her and she lets him rub fingers against her clit until she too reaches her release, clenching against his softening cock. She collapses against him and Tyelko wraps his arms around her as they lie together, catching their breath.

There are no doubt more arguments and recriminations to come but for now all is peaceful. Irissë knows she ought to regret what they had done but this was no time for regrets any more. They are all doomed to endless tears so why shouldn’t she take any opportunity for pleasure she found?


	5. Rough sex - Celegorm/Ëol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celegorm just wants to delay Ëol a few hours - and there's no reason he can't have fun doing so
> 
> Content/Warning: impact play, rough oral sex, hatesex

Celegorm is hunting in Himlad around the Fords of Aros when he encounters the Avar, Ëol, Aredhel's husband.

He knows from Curufin's servants that Aredhel and her son passed this way shortly before heading for Gondolin and that Ëol is pursuing her so decides to provide something of a distraction.

It doesn’t take much manipulation to arrange for the Avar's horse to shy and throw him and then to appear, bared to the waist with his hair flowing loose down his back. Celegorm holds a hand out to help him up, “Perhaps I can be of assistance?” he offers.

Ëol looks up at him and his outstretched hand with suspicion, narrowing his eyes. “I know who you are, kinslayer. Why should I trust you?”

Celegorm shrugs. “If you are looking for Aredhel, she and the boy have ridden on to Himlad,” he lies smoothly. “It's a long journey without a horse but I can offer you the hospitality of this camp and perhaps yours will return shortly.”

It is clear Ëol is unsure whether to believe him but, with Huan pacing heavily around the perimeter, it is difficult for him to refuse.

Celegorm hadn’t had much time to prepare but he has a little food to offer since he was hunting already. There are also plenty of berries around so he has picked a few handfuls and it is a simple seduction as he lets them redden his lips, fellating his fingers to clean them of the juices.

He can see the hunger in Ëol's gaze, knows the Avar wants him and fully intends to encourage his every desire. Celegorm relishes the violence his clenched muscles and furrowed brow promise.

The tension between them mounts until they clash together. Celegorm kisses him on the mouth and Ëol pushes him away forcefully. Celegorm drops easily to his knees, licking his lips. “So you want to put me in my place?”

Ëol growls and turns away but he doesn't go far, reaching for his pack. Celegorm shudders in anticipation as the Avar takes his riding crop and brings it down across Celegorm's chest.

He gasps and arches his chest forward into the blow. The other has a smith's upper body strength and Celegorm is deeply appreciative. He withstands a dozen or so hard strikes, seeing the red welts rise on his skin and knowing he will feel it for days.

Aredhel's husband stalks around behind him and Celegorm tips his head forward, letting his hair flow over his shoulders leaving his back bare. Eol doesn't hesitate to take what he is offering up, his blows unrelenting but Celegorm delights in the pain.

When he is satisfied Ëol flings the crop away, unlacing his breeches with such force Celegorm is almost surprised they don't tear.

His cock is thick and hard, the head already pearling with seed. Celegorm leans forward to take it into his mouth but Ëol grabs his hair, holding him just short. Celegorm stretches out his tongue to lap at the crown.

“Look at you,” Ëol taunts him, as though his words have any power over Celegorm. “Desperate for it like a bitch in heat. Why don't you beg me for it if you want it so badly?”

Celegorm has no shame in this either. He looks up at Ëol through his eyelashes, licks his lips again and, in his best suggestive tone says, “Please, let me suck you. I'll make it so good.”

He doesn't know whether Ëol is convinced by his act or just eager to debase one of the hated Noldor but he brings his cock to Celegorm's lips. “Go on then. Show me what you can do."

Celegorm doesn’t hesitate. The Avar's cock is thick but he's taken bigger and he takes it in deep. He intends to work him slowly but Ëol is impatient, using his grip on Celegorm's hair to pull him back and forth on his cock.

Out of the corner of his eye, Celegorm can see Huan poised to defend him and he relaxes into it, lets the Avar's cock hit the back of his throat, swallows around him.

It doesn't take long until his seed coats Celegorm's tongue, even as Ëol pulls back to spill across his mouth and throat. Celegorm leans back, making no move to wipe himself clean, and lets Eol watch as it drips down onto his chest.

The Avar tears his gaze away with obvious difficulty, relaces his leggings and straightens his tunic.

Sometime during their tryst his horse had returned and it now grazes alongside Celegorm's own mare, watched over by Huan. Ëol pulls himself onto its back and glares down as Celegorm. "Don't think this means anything, Noldo," he says scornfully.

Celegorm runs his fingers lightly over the marks on his chest. "Whyever would I think that?" he asks, tilting his head as though in curiosity.

Ëol wheels around and spurs the horse on without responding. 

Celegorm watches his retreating back with satisfaction. Dusk is falling and the Avar will be hard-pressed to catch up with Aredhel now.


	6. Shower/bath - Celegorm/Tilion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celegorm's swimming trip doesn't go as planned but he has no regrets.
> 
> Content/Warning: voyeurism, washing kink, hair kink, mutual handjobs, power imbalance, age difference, use of Quenya names

When Tyelkormo came across Tilion bathing under a waterfall he hadn't intended to spy. He'd come out here to go swimming but this was much more interesting. 

Tilion was more slender than Oromë but, seeing him nude, he was still thick with muscle and well-made enough to give Maitimo a run for his money. From his temples, short antlers rose from his chestnut curls and he had an even tan Tyelko envied.

Tyelko for barely tear his eyes away and the sound of the falling water drowned out his approach as he tried to get as close as possible without being seen.

Unlike some of the Maia Tyelko encountered around his grandfather's court, who shucked their fana at the earliest opportunity, Oromë's Maia always seemed to enjoy their bodily forms and took full advantage of all the possibilities they offered.

Tilion certainly appeared to be luxuriating in the falling water which Tyelkormo knew, from previous experience, was a perfect temperature at this time of year.

The Maia took his time, luxuriating under the spray, head tipped back and throat bared as the water ran over his defined muscles.

Tyelko watched Tilion pull a bar of soap out of thin air and work up a lather. Then he began to work his soapy fingers through his hair, untangling it as he went. Tyelko longed to join him, to be the one who got to handle his glorious hair, to work his fingers deep and massage out any tension from his scalp. Tilion's hair reached almost to his knees and Tyelko just knew it would feel amazing under his hands.

Sometimes his brothers or cousins let him help wash their hair but it felt almost too intimate doing it for them and it was hard to control his reaction. Even just watching Tilion got his blood hot.

Tilion turned, tossing his hair so it fanned out under the flow of the water. It was almost like he was performing for an audience and Tyelko suddenly realised guiltily that Tilion probably knew he was there. He felt his face heat at being caught and started to back away before a dulcet voice rang out.

"Leaving so soon?"

Tyelkormo felt the heat rise all the way to his ear-tips and he was tempted to turn and run but Tilion's next words held him in place.

"You're welcome to join me, if you’d like," Tilion told him.

Of course he would like to. Knowing Tilion's famed impulsiveness, he wouldn't have offered simply out of politeness so Tyelko only hesitated a moment before shucking his clothes and joining the Maia under the curtain of water as Tilion laughed musically.

Tyelko wasn’t sure what he was being allowed to do but Tilion left no doubt about what his invite entailed as he pulled Tyelkormo flush against his body. "I see your desire," he said. "Go ahead and touch me."

Tyelko maybe made an embarrassing noise when he finally got to bury his hands, and his face, in that silky soft hair as he helped Tilion comb it through to get out the last of the foam.

Once that was done Tilion passed him the soap, which lathered easily, like only the best ones did but had an unfamiliar scent, a warm earthy aroma with a hint of sweetness.

Tilion laughed at Tyelkormo's awed expression and guided his hands to his firm chest. His skin was warm and smooth and Tyelko’s hands seemed to flow easily over him, up to his collar bones, down to the crest of his hips, over the flat abdomen and back up to his pecs.

His hands seemed to resonate with the feeling and Tyelkormo couldn't help growing hard. Looking down, he could see Tilion was equally affected.

It was one thing for Tilion to invite him to share his shower, but Tyelko wasn’t entirely sure his touch would be welcomed. The words stuck in his throat but, as he took a deep breath trying to find his courage, the Maia simply tilted his hips forward so his cock rubbed against Tyelko’s own.

“Can I?” Tyelko barely managed to get the words out.

Tilion smiled, “Of course,” then guided Tyelko’s soapy hand down to wrap around both their lengths, though he couldn’t reach very far, and put his own over the top. The Maia’s hand engulfed his and was soft and uncalloused, despite the amount of hunting he did.

Tyelko thought he was fairly experienced but this was on another level. It was as though Tilion’s touch trailed sparks of pleasure across his entire body. 

Together they worked until they both spilled over Tilion’s stomach. That sort of synchronicity was rare in Tyelko’s previous experience but perhaps it was more common when your partner was a Maia.

They leant against each other for a long moment, Tyelko tangling his fingers in Tilion's hair to ground himself. He pulled back first, looking ruefully at the mess they had made.

“You’re all dirty now,” he said, with disappointment.

Tilion only laughed. “I suppose you’ll have to clean me all over again then.”


	7. Hurt & comfort - Celegorm/Curufin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following their exile from Nargothrond, Celegorm comforts his brother.
> 
> Content/Warning: sibling incest, hair kink, handjobs

Celegorm is collecting firewood when Curufin’s angry cursing draws him back to their camp. At first he is afraid his brother is hurt but instead he finds Curufin with his heavy braid over one shoulder, glaring down at a thin strip of leather in his hand.

Celegorm feels a rush of relief, and something inside him loosens. Everything has seemed so dire since they were cast out of Nargothrond but this is something with an immediate simple solution. “Let me help you, brother,” he offers, though he isn’t sure Curufin will accept his assistance.

Curufin snarls incoherently and flings away the snapped cord. “I’m not sure why I even bother.”

It isn’t exactly encouragement but it’s a start and it’s more than Celegorm has got out of him in days. “Come, sit down.” Celegorm directs his brother to set out his sleeping roll and sit cross-legged while Celegorm kneels behind him.

Although he wishes he could do more for his brother, Celegorm starts by carefully untying the braid and untangling the remains of the cord from Curufin’s hair, working in silence. Curufin’s only response is to grunt at the particularly nasty knots but he already seems to have lost some of the tension he had been carrying and Celegorm feels some strain of his own easing.

Celegorm takes up his comb and sits behind his brother, slowly working through his neglected hair. Curufin had never been especially vain about it, not like… but no, Celegorm's not thinking about him.

He starts from the bottom, taking his time to smooth out every tangle and doesn’t speak, waiting for Curufin to break the silence. As he works his way up, the only sound is the crackling of the campfire. 

By the time Celegorm reaches Curufin’s shoulder blades he is almost starting to think he will need another plan when Curufin starts to talk.

It isn’t much at first, with Curufin uncharacteristically stumbling over his words, but it doesn’t take long until he reaches the crux of the matter. Celegorm had known Curufin had been hurt by Celebrimbor’s repudiation of him but he hadn’t realised the wound went this deep.

Once Curufin has started, the words just seem to flow out of him and, like poison draining from a wound, Celegorm knows they need to come out. He knows too that he cannot absolve Curufin of his guilt, that he carries the same weight on his own shoulders, but what else could they have done?

Curufin is still talking by the time Celegorm has his hair completely untangled but he doesn’t move, not wanting him to stop. Celegorm takes a moment to bury his hair in his brother’s hair, inhaling deeply. It ought to smell of the fancy oils he prefers, or of molten metal and smoke from the forge. Instead it smells almost musty, as though it had got wet and hadn’t dried properly, though he doesn't think Curufin has washed it once during their travels.

It makes Celegorm's gut clench with grief, desperate to find a way of offering his brother the comfort he needs. Celegorm has always found physical pleasure a great distraction in difficult times and he would gladly offer Curufin any comfort if he thought it would help.

He knows it's wrong to think about his brother in this way but Curufin sounds so lost. Celegorm starts to touch him cautiously, at first just letting his fingers dig into Curufin's scalp, then moving down to his neck and shoulders when he doesn't object. Celegorm wishes he had proper massage oils, but then he might as well wish for a bed to be doing this on and, if they had that, it wouldn't be he Curufin was allowing to ease his tension.

Little by little Celegorm feels the muscles relax under his hands and his own arousal grows at the satisfaction of doing a good job. He angles his hips so as not to let Curufin know how he feels but it is difficult as his brother leans back against him and his words finally tail off.

Eventually Curufin slumps over enough that Celegorm has to lower him onto the bedroll. He pulls away, intending to walk away a little distance from their camp to find his release, hoping that Curufin would be relaxed enough to sleep through. Instead, Curufin grabs his sleeve as soon as he moves.

“Stay?” he asks, his tone uncertain.

Celegorm has a dilemma. He could wrap his arms around his brother, holding him close and giving him the comfort he needs but risking him notice the hardness pressing against him. Or he could let go, turn away from him in his moment of need but keep his secret safe. There is no contest.

He settles down behind him, pulling Curufin back into his embrace. Celegorm tries not to think about his cock, but Curufin is warm and beneath the scents of travel, his familiar smell is comforting. He finds himself almost nuzzling the curve of his neck, wanting to kiss and nip at him like he would a lover.

A moment later he catches himself as his hips rock against Curufin's behind and he freezes, waiting for his brother's certain disapproval.

Instead, without speaking, Curufin guides his hand down to his own crotch. He is only half-hard but it is more than Celegorm would have hoped for. Slowly, half-expecting Curufin to change his mind, Celegorm reaches inside his leggings, gently stroking Curufin's cock to full hardness.

He realises he is again jerking his hips against Curufin’s rear but the friction feels so good he can't bring himself to stop. Curufin doesn’t object, only gasps out soft moans as Celegorm holds him close and takes him firmly in hand.

Celegorm presses the kisses he had longed to give along the long line of Curufin’s neck while he varies the speed and pressure of his touch, trying to find the most sensitive spots. Curufin is wordless and almost boneless with pleasure and Celegorm can’t help but delight at his success.

It only takes Curufin spilling over his fingers with a low cry of relief, for Celegorm to find his own release. Although it means he will have to wash his clothes, Celgorm doesn’t even care; it was worth any price to have Curufin relaxing in his arms, finally at ease as he hasn’t been in months.


	8. Bondage/restraints - Celegorm/Finrod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finrod may be the Lord of Nargothrond, but in the bedchamber he's not the one in control.
> 
> Content/Warning: cousin incest, restraints, hair pulling, orgasm delay/denial, oral sex, anal sex

Celegorm leant back to admire his handiwork. Finrod lay on the bed, chest bare, arms outstretched. Loops of his own hair ran around his wrists and tied him to the bedframe.

Finrod made a frustrating sound when he realised he couldn't move his arms, or his head, without tugging painfully at his scalp. When he stared up at Celegorm, his pupils were wide with arousal, the evidence of it tenting his underclothes.

There was always something so satisfying about having such power, his beautiful cousin at his mercy, and Celegorm took his time to look his fill.

He slowly peeled the fabric away and off, feeling himself salivating as Finrod’s endowment became visible. The dwarves hadn't named him ‘hewer of caves’ purely for his interest in mining and Celegorm had always appreciated what he could do with it.

Now he got the opportunity to take control. Celegorm drizzled some oil directly onto Finrod's cock, just to watch it twitch, then he wrapped his hand around Finrod's length, easing the foreskin down before stroking him.

Finrod's hips jerked upward, following his touch, and Celegorm swung a leg across him so he was straddling his thighs, preventing him moving further.

Celegorm teased Finrod, stroking him lightly at first, then tightening his grip and speeding up. He could tell from Finrod’s breathing when he was approaching release and let go. Finrod made a frustrated noise but Celegorm waited until he was no longer on a hair trigger before starting again.

Finrod's muscles strained at the bonds but he couldn't break himself free, not unless he wanted to have to explain his sudden desire for a new hairstyle.

Celegorm knew Finrod had too much pride to beg for his release, at least this soon so, when he thought Finrod had had enough of that particular tease, Celegorm took his time setting up the next stage of his plan. He slowly stripped out of his clothes, letting Finrod appreciate the view, then returned to lay beside him.

They kissed; even restrained Finrod still trying to take charge of it and Celegorm enjoyed the power of being able to pull back further than his cousin could follow or lean in to nip at his chin, his earlobe, since he couldn’t pull away.

Celegorm pressed against his side and the contact between bare flesh was even better. He spent a while just rutting against Finrod's thigh, angling his body to hold himself up, not allowing Finrod's cock any friction, until he was almost begging for more.

Then he moved down and took his time over worshipping Finrod's heavy cock with his mouth. He knew Finrod would love to have his hands on Celegorm, tangled in his hair or on his neck to hold him down and make him take it deeper than his current slow, shallow sucking. The wooden bedframe creaked dangerously as Finrod tried to free himself.

“Control yourself, cousin,” Celegorm teased, hoping it would hold long enough. He took the oil and turned to let Finrod watch as he prepped himself, holding himself open so Finrod could see where his fingers were buried in his hole.

“Ai Eru, please, Tyelko, I need more.” Finrod pleaded and, though he wasn't truly ready, Celegorm decided he had waited long enough.

Turning back around, he said, “Come on, cousin, tell me what you need."

“I want to be inside you, please.” Finrod’s eyes were almost completely dark and loose hairs stuck to his face. 

“I think I can arrange that.” Still straddling him, Celegorm lined up Finrod’s cock with his hole and slid down. With the minimal preparation, it was a stretch and he had to take a couple of minutes to adjust. By the time he was ready to move there was something wild in Finrod’s eyes and his lips were bitten red.

He rose up and down slowly at first, hands on Finrod’s shoulders, holding him steady. Finrod panted out words of encouragement as he tried to work his hips up but Celegorm was stronger.

He knew Finrod could only hold off a little longer, so leant back, palms flat on the bed behind him as he worked his hips faster. Finrod’s words were barely coherent, as he urged him on.

Celegorm closed his eyes, close to orgasm, then there was a distinct crack as the bedframe splinters. A few whispered words of power and the knots unravelled, freeing Finrod’s hands.

Then their positions were reversed. Celegorm found himself on his back with his knees both pressed up to his chest as Finrod slammed back into him. 

He cried out as Finrod hammered him with deep thrusts and, after all that build up, it didn’t take long until they both came. Celegorm reached his release first, before Finrod spilled deep inside him. 

They were both damp with sweat and the room smelt heavily of musk but Celegorm still relished the feeling of Finrod’s weight slumped across him. Eventually though Finrod rolled off, his breathing evening out.

“I take it you liked that then,” Celegorm asked with a smirk.

Finrod have a deep sigh. “Damn you, yes.”

Celegorm didn't bother trying to hide his smug satisfaction. “Maybe I'll get Curvo to make you a metal bedframe,” he offered, only half-joking. This was the third time they’d broken the wooden one and he was sure people were going to start asking questions. Surely even Finrod wouldn’t be able to break Curufin’s metal-craft.

He had expected his cousin to baulk at the idea but Finrod only shrugged. “So long as you don’t tell him why you want it.”

Perhaps he should then. It would definitely make their next time more entertaining.


	9. Mirrors/doubles - Celegorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being reborn, Celegorm familiarises himself with his new form
> 
> Content/Warning: references to canonical character death, masturbation, mild body dysphoria

Celegorm had a long time to think in Mandos’ Halls. The Doomsman of the Valar had been clear that only true repentance would free him and it had taken a while before he had the necessary distance for even regret.

He’d had visitors: some like Huan and Finrod came to tell him they forgave him his actions towards them, others to scream vitriol, but they were all equally houseless. None could touch him there.

And it was that lack of physical form which had truly got to him after a while. Celegorm had always embraced his physicality, taking pleasure from it in every way, that to be so limited was the truest torture. 

Now he was finally re-embodied he stood naked gazing in the mirror and it was like looking at a stranger's form. 

The quality of mirrors had improved too - or at least there was a better quality available than in Beleriand whether they had either been metal or little more than hand-sized. This one was full-length, silvered-glass with no distortions so he was able to see himself clearly for the first time in, well probably millenia.

He ran an unblemished hand down his unblemished chest, remembering the feel of Dior's blade sinking in. It hadn't been a thought he'd considered as a unhoused spirit but something about the feeling of being back in a body made him recall the sensation of struggling to breath as his lungs filled with blood.

Celegorm shook himself out of the memory but looking into the mirror again he had an idea for how to reacclimatise to his body.

Not just the wounds which had killed him were gone but every scar he had worn in Beleriand, even those he had earned before the exile when he had ridden with Oromë's Hunt.

Besides which he looked scrawny, bearing his adult height but not the muscles he had spent years building and then honing. It was like being returned to just past his adolescence, except he had never actually looked like this. 

He ran his hand over his chest again more purposefully, noticing what felt good and watching his mirror self react. He was already growing half-hard at the prospect.

His cock was a familiar weight in his hand, the nest of fair hair surrounding it also familiar but less so the narrow thighs and undefined stomach muscles. Though the feel was no different, it looked like someone else’s hand. 

Celegorm tried to imagine the man in the mirror a stranger whose reactions he wanted to learn. He worked his hand slowly at first, keeping up the pretence, as he examined his new body. And it was entirely new - he had never been this tall and untoned, with untested muscles which trembled as he stood here - even as a youth he had been stronger since he had gloried in movement for its own sake, always running, swimming or riding. 

He met his own reflected gaze and even that was unfamiliar. The last time he had examined his face in a mirror had been before the attack on Doriath when he had been gaunt, with deep shadows under bloodshot eyes, while his hair had been unkempt and tightly pulled back from his face.

Now, though the face which looked back at him was pale and clearly untouched by the sun’s rays, he looked healthy, his eyes were clear and bright, and his hair flowed loose down his back to reach his waist.

Looking further down, his shoulders and arms were narrower than he remembered, no years of archery for this body. Celegorm tried to flex his biceps, mostly unsuccessfully, but he was distracted by the jut of bone at his wrists, and the discovery he could wrap one hand around the other wrist. He put that aside to explore another time and moved onwards.

His chest muscles were undeveloped but he ran his fingers lightly over them anyway, and watched them twitch at the sensation. Then he pinched his nipples with his free hand, watching them harden. He felt more sensitive than before, perhaps the novelty of being embodied, or maybe the newness of the flesh he found himself in.

Celegorm found himself wanting to test the sensitivity, scratching his neatly-edged nails down his chest to see red lines form. It stung but it was a welcome pain. The mark faded as he watched, and Celegorm turned slightly to admire the mirror-image from a different angle. 

His profile had changed but the slender build was not unattractive. His hair reached the top of his now-flat buttocks and he brushed it aside to stroke himself from the join of his thigh, which had always been sensitive, back up over his narrow hips. 

He squeezed the flesh of his buttock, flexing the muscle and thinking of how good this body would look on its hands and knees. He even thought about touching himself more intimately but that would ruin the illusion since he wouldn’t be able to get a good view. 

Instead Celegorm turned back to face the mirror fully, fondling his balls as he continued to stroke his cock, watching it flush darker as it filled out. He could feel his release approaching and sped up his strokes, trying to keep a steady rhythm for the benefit of his imaginary lover.

Celegorm felt his knees buckle and dropped to the ground, supporting himself with one hand, whilst he frantically stroked himself with the other, refusing to break contact with his own eyes in the mirror.

When he came it was a relief, and he watched as the white liquid spurted over his chest and stomach, pumping his hand until there was no more. Then Celegorm tipped his head back to admire the flush which had spread from his face, down his neck to his chest. It felt like an achievement, his heart beating hard with the exertion. He was truly alive again.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Give the People What They Want" by The Kinks
> 
> You can see my full bingo card [here](https://aleksrothis.dreamwidth.org/1571.html)
> 
> Come find me on [Dreamwidth](https://aleksrothis.dreamwidth.org) or on [Tumblr](https://aleksrothis.tumblr.com)


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